by Bec Fary

There’s a bar set against a cliff. I ask for a Heineken, and a man sitting with a group aks what I said. He has blue eyes that look directly into mine, and blonde hair.

I repeat myself and he tells me he couldn’t understand me because of my accent. I tell him I’m Australian. He says he already knew that, because he’s German.

My friend arrives and stands behind me. I try to introduce her but I get her name wrong, even though I know it. I haven’t had anything to drink but I’m drunk anyway.

Another friend arrives and hands me a white pill. She tells me it’ll make me feel better. I put it on my tongue but I can’t swallow because my mouth is so dry.

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